


Greyback's Daughter

by tambrathegreat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tambrathegreat/pseuds/tambrathegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape is forced into a marriage of inconvenience by the Dark Lord.</p>
<p>Written for the Lover's of the Potions Master August challenge on facebook.</p>
<p>Special thanks go to Dawn Demers for her English/French translations. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This story was red-moused by Jilliane, who did a fabulous and fast job due to my procrastination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greyback's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Any recognisable characters and settings belong to JK Rowling. I retain rights to all original characters. I make no money from this endeavor.

 

Severus watched her cross the ballroom floor, a nonentity to most, a violin case in her hand attired in a dress that was so red it appeared black. She was, after all, not a guest, but a member of the small orchestra hired by Lucius to play the ridiculous aires and waltzes that were the bread and butter of pureblood soirees. She paused behind a matron, attempting to squeeze past the gesticulating, jewel bedecked hands without causing the women to notice her. A fleshy hand made a near miss of the musician, but brought unwanted attention from the matron's compatriots. Severus could see their sneers of disgust from the darkened corner from in which he hid. It couldn't be easy, being what she was in this gathering. He knew it wasn't easy for him, even after Potter had thrown his famous weight behind clearing Severus' name.

It seemed the war would never end for some.

The woman ducked her head, her colour high as she made her way as unobtrusively as possible to the dais. Once she assumed her seat, she hastily opened the case and gathered her violin to her, clutching it as if it were a lifeline.

After a moment, the twenty piece orchestra began tuning, their discordant sound a counterpoint to the clinking glasses and brown noise of a human speech. He watched her as he had all those years ago.

 

_She was Greyback's daughter, this creature who knelt before the Dark Lord with an angel's face and courtesan's body. Her mahogany-shaded hair glistened in the shuddering witchclights that did little to dispel the gloom of the cavernous basement of Riddle Manor. She had been crying recently, Severus could see, because tear tracks still stained her cheeks. She couldn't be more than seventeen, barely out of the schoolroom._

_Greyback stood behind her, his taloned grip on her shoulder digging into her soft flesh. Severus moved restively as the werewolf spoke, "My Lord, I've come to present you with a gift. My firstborn."_

_The Dark Lord's scathing attention turned on the werewolf. Greyback visibly cringed before brazening on, "I know my Lord has no use for such a paltry offering, but I was hoping that he might find a worthy place for her in his ranks. She remains untouched."_

_"I see." The Dark Lord's reddened eyes flared eerily for a moment. He turned his full attention on the girl, who flinched as she met his gaze. For moments, she struggled as with an unseen foe, whilst the Dark Lord held her full attention. She moaned softly, a sound that seemed to be torn from her rather than given freely. Suddenly the girl slumped to the floor, her head hitting the hard-packed earth of the basement with a soft thud. Her sobs filled the room as the few Death Eaters assembled for the meeting stared at her in varying degrees of pity or lust. Severus maintained his outward calm, though his revulsion at what he knew would be inflicted on a seeming innocent roiled in his gut._

_The Dark Lord broke the near silence, "Stand, girl."_

_The girl rose, as if a puppet on strings and walked forward, her legs tottery. She looked as if she wanted to scream, but still came to a halt in front of the dais on which the Dark Lord sat. She kept her face averted as the Dark Lord lifted his hand and placed it on her head almost lovingly. He stroked her hair as he said, "My new pet is spirited. She needs a hand as strict and stern as mine. One who feels he needs the softer things in life. " The Dark Lord paused, as if in thought, "Yes, I think I will choose one who has, in the past, chosen an unworthy vessel for his attentions."_

_Severus watched woodenly as the Dark Lord raised his hand, crooking his finger in the potions master's direction. "Severus, come. Meet your bride, Miss Lena Greyback, daughter of Fenrir."_

He waited for the set to end and the dinner service to begin before he gave up his vigil and slipped through the crowd to the upper hallway overlooking the ballroom. Lucius' hospitality was legendary to all, but Severus was disinclined this evening to deal with the falseness of the chatter and the utter hypocrisy of the sycophants who forgot the past for a good nosh with the hoi polloi. No matter how much Lucius' attitudes had changed, he was still, at his very best, a snob.

No, Severus would not be dining this evening. His bitter mourning weeds would not grace the table for all and sundry to speculate upon. He had grown tired of the entire fiasco his life had become after Potter's most famous and unwelcome defence of Severus during the tumultuous post-war days. Swooning maidens in search of a darkly tortured paramour did not interest him, even if he weren't already engaged in a relationship, no matter how tenuous the connection was after years of inattention. Severus knew his own nature, and could predict how well any type of dalliance might proceed with the ninnies who threw their house keys, underwear, or in a few memorable incidents, love potions at him.

He was a snarky, dark bastard with a tongue that could, and often was, employed to flense whomever drew his ire.

He came to the East gallery, a Georgian confection which overlooked the gardens and, thankfully, housed no portraits. It was Severus' favourite place to sulk when Lucius forced him to attend one of these social acts of torture. He turned his attention outwards to the moon-washed paths, glad that the florid peacocks had gone to roost and did not stroll through the vista. He needed no reminder of how inadequate he had always looked next to Lucius, nor did he need to dwell on the woman, his wife, who waited belowstairs with the other human servants and house elves.  
Yet, his mind strayed to her nonetheless.

_"I must insist, Madam, that you embark on the portkey I have provided. There is no room in my life for any encumbrances." Severus kept his back turned to her, trying not to picture her after what he had forced her to do. The Dark Lord had insisted the marriage be consummated, and damned Severus if he hadn't enjoyed every inch of his newly acquired burden's flesh. He was, after all, a man, a young one, who had never partaken of the fleshly pleasures. That he did so at the behest of a madman had made little difference to him with such a beautiful partner._

_He had thought that she responded with pleasure, but it didn't matter, not to him anyway. He must set her aside to be able to accomplish what he must to save Lily._

_He_ was _still in love with Lily, after all, no matter how his body might respond to the lush curves of his fresh-faced virgin bride. Lily was the reason he found himself in this situation to begin with, unable to risk displeasing the Dark Lord. She was the reason he had even considered going to Albus Dumbledore. Lily alone was the reason he was a spy, and why he would do the old man's bidding under the guise of teaching. He hated the thought of forcing a group of dunderheads to learn a subject for which they showed no aptitude._

_He said Lily's name in his mind as if it were a mantra, if only to block out the images of his carnal pleasures of the previous two days._

_The girl--_ Lena _\-- remained silent, the lack of response stretched accusingly through the room. Finally he glanced over his shoulder. She sat hunched on the bed, his parents' own marital bed, her eyes downcast, her shoulders shaking. Severus had no use for female histrionics, he had no frame of reference to deal with tears. He snorted in disgust and she raised her face to meet his gaze._

_"Do you mean it?" No tears littered her cheeks, he saw, a sour note of displeasure curling around in his brain at the fact. Instead, she smiled as if she had been given a reprieve. "I mean no disrespect, husband, but... you mean to set me aside? I might... continue...?"_

_"Yes, damn you! Do as you will." Severus swirled on her, grabbed her shoulders and gave her a quick, hard shake. "Leave. Now!"_

_She made a noise as if in protest, and his tempter flared. It stung that he wasn't even good enough for Greyback's tainted daughter._

_"Don't pity me!" He pulled her up in a bruising grip and thrust the portkey into her hand. "Go to the continent, spread your legs for all and sundry for all I care. Just leave."_

_He did not need to look at her to see the hurt on her face. He did not need to know her to see how much he had wounded her with his baseless accusation. Severus cursed himself for once again speaking without thinking._

_He looked anyway, and saw instead extreme ire. "Maybe I will, my Lord and Master! That's what all Death Eater wives want, to spread their legs and breed things as dark and twisted as their husbands!"_

_Severus clenched his fist, wanting very badly to strike out, but instead stalked past her throwing his cloak over his shoulder. "Do not be here when I return, Madam."_

_After he slammed the door closed, he heard her sob and then she pronounced, "_ Portus!"

 

He turned at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Astoria Greengrass, Draco's affianced, leaned drunkenly over the balustrade and called in a falsetto sing-song, "Come find me, if you want me, Dragon!'

Severus skirted the patch of light the moon cast through the window, and found his way to one of the many salons in the gallery. He opened the door as silently as he could, letting the silk panelled monstrosity slide shut just as quietly.

He was surprised to note that the room was not as gloomy as expected. A small fire burned cheerfully in the grate, illuminating a tiny, dark-haired figure dressed in a lacy white confection, seated on an elaborately gilded settee.

_"Bonjour, qui êtes-vou? Mon nom est Sylvie."_ The girl, no more than seven or eight, if Severus could judge by her size, suddenly propped herself on her knees. She patted the settee next to her, an incongruously adult gesture.

_"S'il vous plaîts, avoir une siège, monsieur. Vous avez l'air interesant."_

Severus remained near the door, wishing he might escape this small creature who obviously spoke only French. His discomfort increased as she smiled winsomely. The child seemed familiar. She must belong to one of his former students, though French seemed an odd language to choose for a wizarding child. He would have thought a discerning wizarding parent would choose Latin or even Greek.

She continued to insistently prod the couch and realising her intent, Severus shook his head. "No, I believe not, you little cretin."

_"Vraiment, monsieur?"_ the child replied with a coquettish tilt to her head. The child fixed a very adult pout on her face. _"S'il vous plaÎt, J'ai m'ennuie d'attendre sur ma maman. Elle doit terminer son travaills avant que nous puissons rentrer à la maisson._ "

Severus recognized a few words of her rapid-fire speech. He read the language well, but listening to a native speaker and understanding their words was beyond his limited abilities. He finally spat, "Don't you speak English?"

_"Bien sûr que je fais, idiot!"_ The child clambered from the settee, her buckled shoes scratching the silky surface of the couch, snagging the fabric. She exclaimed in slightly accented English, "Oh no! I am in sooooo much trouble!"

She burst into tears and Severus cursed under his breath as he drew out his wand. He cast a spell he had used many times in his youth to renew his own second-hand garments." _Figere!_ "

She continued to sniffle until Severus said, a little more snappishly than he intended, "Oh do be quite you little dunderhead! I don't want any undue attention coming to this room because of your mistake."

The child's mouth snapped shut, even as glistening tears still spilled over her dark lashes and down her cheeks, as if fixed by magic. Severus thought ruefully of the many times in his life that he wished the spell was effective on things other than fabric.

_The year of the ill-fated Tri Wizard tournament, Lena returned to Severus' life._

_She had shown up the day before the Yule ball. She waited just outside the Headmaster's ofice, speaking easily with Albus about something amusing if Severus could tell by Albus' demeanor. She was still swathed in a heavy travelling cloak, which she kept pulled tightly around her body. His heart instantly sped-up as he realised that, even after all these years, she still retained her beauty._

_Severus halted, afraid to move away from or towards the two as he weighed his likelihood of escape. Of course he had told Albus of his dilemma, well after the fact of Lena's removal from his presence. Albus had neither condemned nor approved of Severus' actions, but there had been an air of sadness about the old man after Severus had admitted his role in the charade. Albus had never asked after her again, and Severus honestly had not dwelt on the woman since then. Now, with the reappearance of the Dark Mark, Severus could only think that his dear wife had come at the behest of some other Death Eater to keep tabs on the Dark Lord's spy and report on his loyalty. His life, already complicated by the presence of Potter and Karakoff, just became dangerously chaotic._

_He would get rid of the chit as soon as possible, even if it meant compelling her by using less than legal means. He took a step forward, feeling as if his heart were beating somewhere in the vicinity of his mouth. He nodded to Albus, and bowed precisely, if coolly, to Lena. "Madam, to what Dark force do I owe the pleasure of your company?"_

_Albus harrumphed, a noise surely meant to be a warning, but Severus ignored it. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at her. She blushed quite prettily, the rosy colour only serving to heighten the mahogany of her hair and the paleness of her alabaster skin. Severus thought that if he were impressed by mere beauty, he might have been able to fall in love with her, despite her seemingly Dark ties and not so stellar heritage._

_"My Lord and Master," she began sharply before her eyes skittered to their audience. She took a deep breath and said, "Severus, I thought it best that we spoke before... I'm moving to the continent soon, and would like to settle... some issues that lie between us."_

_She turned a falsely bright smile on Albus and said, "It was so good speaking with you again, Albus."_

_The Headmaster made his farewell, an odd gleam in his normally twinkling madness. "It was wonderful to see you, Lena. Perhaps we shall have more time to visit the next time you're at Hogwarts."_

_As the stairs to the Headmaster's office began spinning upwards, Severus began stalking away, his wife following, breathlessly catching up to Severus and pulling on his sleeve. "Please, Severus. I never wanted...."_

_"Silence, before you do my reputation any more damage!" he hissed through clenched teeth._

_They made their way to his quarters, well out of sight of any students. Once he ushered her into his apartments he turned on her. She stepped away from him, her back against the door as he roughly pulled off his teaching robes and slung them over the back of a rickety chair. He finally acknowledged her continued presence with a brusque, "Is this a conversation for tea or whisky?"_

_"Whisky, I think," she replied faintly._

_He gestured impatiently for her to sit whilst he gathered the drinks from his cabinet._

_"Severus..." she began, but stopped to stare into the fire as he plopped the tumbler down beside her._

_Never the most patient of men, he nonetheless let her gather her thoughts while his own mind raced over varying scenarios. Finally he said, "We cannot divorce, you know this, so why are you here, Madam?"_

_She raised her gaze to his, "I just wanted to see...." She picked the tumbler up with a shaking hand and took a sip before she said, "I knew you in school, Severus, but you never noticed me."_

_He sat back in his chair, bemused by her sudden change in tactic. "Get to your point, Madam. I have duties to which I must attend to this evening."_

_"You only had eyes for that Evans girl." Her tone was heavy with recrimination which, to a less discerning ear, would have sounded like jealousy. "I wished to see if we might... make a go of what's been thrust on us. I know that's impossible, but..."_

_She rose and crossed to him, letting her travelling cloak fall away from her shoulders. She stood before him, as nude as a Roman goddess, her rose-tinted nipples in sharp relief against her pale skin. His eyes travelled down her torso, dwelling on her nipped-in waist, straying down her hips, to land on the dark thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs. "I want you... to make love to me just as you did on our wedding night and the day after. I need to feel you in me one last time, Severus."_

_His grip on the tumbler tightened until he thought it might shatter in his hand. He set it aside, all thoughts of duty and chaos replaced by the one desire to worship at this goddess' temple. Lily was there, but a dim memory for the moment in light of his bond-mate's incandescence. Without thought, he rose and drew her to him. "I shouldn't...."_

_She put a silencing finger against his lip. "Tonight isn't about what isn't, shouldn't , or can't be. It is about what I..., no..., what we both want for once."_

_He drew her hand away kissed her whisky flavoured lips. She responded by pushing her body against his as he ran his hands down her cool skin, even as he berated himself for his selfishness. He wanted one night for himself, one night in which he could indulge in the fiction that his life might have been normal if he chose. He raised his hand to her breast, cupping the soft flesh, pinching the taut nipple with potions stained fingers. He revelled in the soft mewl that escaped her throat and could only think that he needed to hear more._

_He slid his other hand to the dark thatch of hair at her core, slid a finger along the crease, was gratified by the throbbing, wet heat that met his questing digit. Without thought, he picked her up and carried her to his bed, still intent on the thought of what might have been had he made different choices, been a different man._

_They both fell on the bed and she busied herself with disrobing him. When she fumbled over his many buttons, he aided her by tearing the garment apart, spinning buttons clattering crazily in all directions. Once he was before her as bared as she was, he felt a twinge of shame. Surely she would cringe away from him, his scars and flaws would be too much her to bear. He moved away from her, but she followed, straddling him. She raised to her knees, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she grasped his cock, holding it tightly erect so she could impale herself on him._

_He stifled a howl at the sensation of her tightness as she slowly took him into her. He nearly came as she raised herself again, only to plunge back down on him. He met her gyrations, thrusting into her fully drawing a loud cry from her throat. They strove against each other, both drawing moans and soft exhalations for their efforts. Too soon, they lay spent against each other, panting from the effort they each had made to please the other._

_It was a unique experience in Severus' life, to be desired, and he knew he must end this strange association once again. He could not let himself be diverted from the path he had chosen. He could not fail Lily once again._

_They spent the rest of the evening together as they had on their wedding night, but this time their union was fraught with an urgency he had not felt before._

_He awoke the next day to find her gone. He told himself that he was glad of her absence. He didn't need the distraction when Lily reigned in his heart._

She didn't return until a few months into, the Death Eater trials. Her role in his life outed her in the press as Greyback's one surviving child, and a murderer's wife. She made no effort to contact him and he made the same effort in regard to her.

Severus wanted to know what had drawn her back, what made her come to a country that could never be a home for one such as her, but he knew he would not seek her out.

He pulled himself out of his reverie to find himself standing once again in front of a window, the child, Sylvie, beside him. " _Monsieur?_ "

"Yes?" his voice came out a croak and he felt a moment of dissonance as she moved back to the settee, her crinolines rustling in the silence of the room.

"I think I would like some... drink. A tea." She clasped her hands in her lap. "Could you be so kind to find _Maman_ and ask her if I might have some... drink?"

Severus gave a huff of laughter. "Why, certainly. That is my sole reason for living, to fetch for childish whims."

She looked expectantly at him before he finally threw his hands in the air. He needed to make his escape before the next set anyway. What more bother would it be to find the child's obviously errant mother?

He opened the door to the room, leaving it ajar as he crossed once again to the window overlooking the garden. The girl followed him, but only to the threshold of the room. His question crackled with arid humour. "What is her name, and where might I find her, Your Highness?"

Out of the gloom, a graceful figure emerged, dressed in red so dark it seemed black, highlighting the angelic features of his wife. She said, "Her mother's name is Lena Snape, and I believe we might have some things to discuss, Severus."

Hope bloomed in Severus' chest; perhaps all his choices hadn't led to disaster after all. "She is... my child?"

His wife nodded her head slowly. "Indeed, Madam.....I think we might need to discuss........a future together"

Lena gave voice to a throaty laugh. "I like that idea very much, my Lord and Master, very much indeed."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please take the time to let me know what you think.
> 
> *Flense means to cut skin from fat, especially in the whaling and sealing industries. It was introduced to English from Dutch.
> 
> Translation:
> 
> _Bonjour, qui êtes-vous? Mon nom est Sylvie_ \-- Hello, who are you? My name is Sylvie.
> 
> _"S'il vous plaît, avoir un siège, monsieur. Vous avez l'air très intéressant._ \-- Please have a seat, sir. You look very interesting.
> 
> _Vraiment, monsieur?_ \-- Truly, Sir?
> 
> _S'il vous plaît assis, je m'ennuie d'attendre sur ma maman. Elle doit terminer son travail avant que nous puissions rentrer à la maison._ \-- Please sit I'm bored with waiting on my mama. She must finish her work before we can go home 
> 
> _Bien sûr que je fais, idiot!_ \-- But of course I can, silly!


End file.
